Her Silent Revenge novel Chapter 59

PATTON

In hindsight, I might have overreacted.

The problem is I don't regret it.

The logical thing to do was exactly what she asked—arranging a tow to take her home and get her shit sorted.

That's what any self-respecting boss looking out for an employee would do in my position.

Me? I had to freak the hell out and go in guns blazing the instant I knew they were stuck in the storm. The edge in her voice on the phone—fuck, I've never moved so fast in my life.

Now, here I am, tucked away in her small, warm apartment while Arlo talks himself up as reigning karate champ of the world. The kid makes it sound like he was born with black belt in his blood.

Must be from his mother's side since he sure as hell didn't get it from his ghost of a dad.

Salem watches us, sitting across from me in an armchair with fabric tape holding one ripped seam together.

I can't quite read the expression in her eyes.

Something haunted, wistful, a wariness I probably deserve.

It's probably not often grown men visit her place this late, especially with the boy around.

Knowing our past, barging in like I did was probably a dumb move, and she must regret it every second. But I'll sort out whatever the hell this is later, when I'm not in their apartment.

The doorbell rings and Salem jumps like a startled cat. "Stay there, guys. I'll get the pizza."

"I loooove pizza!" Arlo tells me, pumping his fist like he's revealing some great secret. "It's my favorite but Mommy doesn't let us have it very often."

I suspect he thinks this is a character flaw.

"Your mommy wants you to eat healthy so you can grow up to kick some butt. Just like your heroes," Salem says, returning with two large boxes in her hands.

The little pizza shop up the street isn't one of those fancy places with all locally sourced ingredients and more cheese than sauce. Really, it's one step above pure take-out comfort trash, but when she lays the boxes down on the table and opens the lid and the warm, greasy scent curls out, I know he was right.

Tonight's perfect for junk food.

There's something comforting about the smell, and I close my eyes as I inhale.

To think, if I hadn't answered her call, I'd be scrambling eggs and spinach with a steak on the side at home. My go-to after a long day when it's reasonably healthy and it doesn't take long to throw together.

"You know him?"

"His son lives in the building, just a few units down," she says with a shrug. "He's taken a liking to Arlo—or Arlo's taken a liking to him. I don't know how it happened, but they're friends now. He always stops to talk when he sees us in the hall."

I hate that I can see that. Arlo's a good kid, now that I've gotten to know him better. With his mom handling him alone, it's easy to appreciate how he's turning out.

What's harder is feeling jealousy flaring in my blood. How old is this son, anyway?

How well do they really know each other?

The thought of some pizza slinging doofus on her home turf climbing through her window for a quickie after Arlo's asleep robs a little enjoyment from the cheesy goodness.

I swallow roughly.

I know, I'm being ridiculous.

But I can't get mad at Arlo for making friends with a guy who isn't true competition for a woman I'm not fucking after.

All around the apartment, you can see how simple his life is.